


The first train to the stars

by meujabutifugiu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, and feelings and stuff, but don't worry, set during prohibition era, they are going to drink, this fic is all about confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7754845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meujabutifugiu/pseuds/meujabutifugiu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But that’s the problem with happiness: before you know it, you’re already completely addicted."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The first train to the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> 1- English is not my first language, but I tried my very best.  
> 2- I don't care if you correct me in the comments (in fact, please do. I'll be happy to fix it)  
> 3- This fanfic was inspired by a fanart made by emuyhn on twitter, go check it out!!

_ What was he doing? _

That was the question that kept running through his head while they're leaving the dormitories grounds, sneaking in the shadows of the training grounds. It was a clear and quiet night, the full moon felt like a shining spotlight above them and Keith couldn't help but to keep track of the footsteps they were leaving behind as he looked over his shoulder.

“Where are you taking us?” he questioned, somehow making a whisper sound aggressive.

“Take it easy, it’s the last day. No one cares.” assured Lance, waving his hand dismissively as if nothing mattered, “The lookouts are probably sleeping like a rock as we speak.”

“You are disturbingly optimist.” 

“Aw, stop with the compliments, ok? You are making me blush.” he said with a playful smile.

“That wasn't a complime-” he stopped mid-sentence when Lance blocked his path, one arm stretched across his abdomen.

Keith felt a fleeting touch land in his waist seconds before Lance´s fingers quickly retreated, keeping a tiny distance between them, as if he couldn´t decide whether to touch him or not. A chill ran through his body and a sudden realisation hit the young man, his jacket was left forgotten at the dorm, just the vest and thin shirt he had on weren’t enough to keep the cold away. The other boy was basically glued on the dining facility’s outside wall as he cautiously analysed the way they would have to take next then, he made a “follow me” sign.

“Now we run.” he instructed, as Keith clicked his tongue and obliged.

The fall was coming to an end and the sound of dry leaves under their feet seemed to blast with the same intensity as the morning sirens. His heart was desperately beating like a drum against his chest, because he was too rational to simply believe that all the guards were sleeping and Lance wasn't the most discreet person even when he tried to be. But, at every step made he, at least, hoped that whatever they were actually doing (being too distracted by the wind on tree tops or by small animals rolling around in bushes) it was enough to keep them from noticing the two cadets running for dear life across the camp on plain sight.

Now he actually knew where they’re headed, at the south part of the camp was a lake and a little old wood shack and an improvised pier used by the recruits only during summer for swimming and other similar types of training but it was basically abandoned after that, especially after the weather gets too cold to even think about getting near water.

The soil near the lake was muddy and their feet kept getting stuck on the ground, making the walk to the pier a little bit difficult but once there, they went around the shack only to find massive piles of boxes and old equipment at the back. Even though he didn’t had any proper source of light, Lance basically went straight to an specific crate as if he knew what he was looking for - most likely, he had hidden something important in there.

Keith looked around and despite not catching any sight of another person, his mind started to misinterpret the quietness. Every fiber of his being was anxiously telling him that something or someone was going to pop up from the darkness and catch them doing whatever they were doing there.

“What was that noise?” startled, he tried to blend with the shadows.

As an answer, he heard Lance snickering.

“Easy there, iron soldier. I just opened the lid.” he fumbled around the box, “I already told you that no one comes here this time of the year, I'm almost sure.”   


He cringed his teeth.  _ Almost sure _ , he said,  _ almost _ .

“Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything illegal.”

Keith wasn’t scared, if anything it was only his self-preservation speaking. Breaking the curfew at a military camp wouldn't send him to jail, that’s for sure, but it would make him run aimlessly on the training track long enough to wish he hadn’t enlisted in the first place and Lance’s famous reputation as captain potato peeler wasn’t going to help.Still, he almost didn´t have words for the big shameless smile on Lance’s face when he fished out a glass bottle full of a brownish-gold liquid from the crate, it’s label read: Whiskey.

“Wow, not illegal at all.”

He vaguely recalled his commander’s words that morning: “ _ You are the first of your squad  and as such _ , _ you have to set an example.” _ and to think the best cadet was now seconds shy from being kicked out of the academy for being in possession of an alcoholic drink forbidden by law. He had to admit, it was almost hilarious.

“No, no. Illegal would be if I had bought or made one of these but them can’t blame us for drinking and hanging around an empty bottle,” he corrected, as if completely outraged by the notion that they were doing something against the law, “And actually, this is for medical care see? It says so on the label.”

Lance sighed while holding the bottle next to his heart.

“I don’t know about you but I feel quite wounded.”

He crossed his arms and tried not to let out a laugh.

“And just where in the world did you find that?”

“Pff, do you think the big guys around here drink milk and apple juice? Fuck no.”

Keith watched as he drew a switchblade and tried to force pull the bottle’s cork open, the effort he was putting into it was comically over the top. He huffed as his cheeks were turning different shades of red, a thin line of sweat dripping across his forehead while the small annoying sound of blade against the glass pierced their eardrums - all of a sudden, the laugh came out of his lips like little hippicus. One would think that months’ worth of basic military training could make a man mightier than a bottle. 

When it finally opened, Lance muttered a couple curses under his breath for letting a little bit of the drink spill on the ground. But, once realised his feat, he turned around to face Keith with a broad shining smile as if he was a little boy who had just found a coin at the middle of the sidewalk and was ready to spend it all on candy. It was kind of cute.

But only  _ kind of. _ If only that moment hadn’t been followed by him monstrously chugging down the bottle of whiskey, for some reason he looked like he was in pain and for a second or two Keith thought he was actually drowning.

“Urg, tastes like piss!!”  Lance cleaned his mouth with one hand while passing the bottle with the other.

“Then, please remind me why are drinking this?” he asked dryly but still accepting the drink.

“Well, it’s the last day of basic training,” explained, as he lowered himself to sit on the floor, “You are going to be an ace and i´m going to be kicked on a train away from here, so the least we could do is to celebrate and/or drink our sorrows away, don't you think?” 

He stared at the liquid through the bottleneck and felt regret slightly stinging his conscience, that looked and smelled like an automobile’s old motor oil. Once again, the same question appeared on his mind, it was with him ever since they left the dorms:  _ What was he doing? Better yet, why was he doing that? _

On his best days, Keith would probably have an excuse at the tip of his tongue, something to say in his favor, but really, each word would've been a lie. Because the true was that was something about the way Lance’s blue eyes glowed in the darkness as he proclaimed that he was going to make this night worth the while, that made a spark light up inside him.

Intrigued, he was intrigued.

Still, he came close to dismiss that situation, if it wasn't for the arrogant way in which his roommate challenged him. 

“You know what’s your problem Keith? You don´t know how to live.” 

If a murderous look could actually kill, Lance probably would have kicked the bucked at that very moment. Keith tried to play it off as if it didn´t bother him in the slightest, still every syllable of that sentence was like a punch in his guts, he could feel this irritating pain that almost took his breath away - but the effects were getting stronger, he was more agitated than when he heard those words in whisper form back at the dorm, seconds before coming out the door to follow his steps.

“You already said that.” he said bitterly.    


“If I´m saying it twice, it’s probably true.”

And it was. Keith knew it was true, and that’s why he was so pissed. 

Even though these connotations had little or nothing to do with the whiskey, he acted like it was and downed the bottle, drinking in big gulps. The liquid was sour and burned it’s way through his throat like an incendium only to land heavily in his stomach like a bunch of rocks.

“Whoa, whoa, don't hurt yourself iron soldier.”

The world around him started to spin and Lance was nothing more than a floating smile between some shapeless blobs, as if he was Alice’s Cherish cat. Then, he decided it would be better to sit before trying to grasp on a piece of reality that was moving way too fast for his eyes to follow. Since the boxes responsible to cover them took a lot of space, they had only a narrow spot to share and it didn't mattered how he arranged himself on the wooden floor, his knees kept bumping on Lance’s.

Keith shook his head from side to side trying to get rid of the dizziness and little by little the blur in front of his eyes started to look like a solid person, he was drinking from the bottle again. 

“This probably is going to be an awful headache tomorrow.”

“I wouldn't know, I never drank before.”

Lance laughed.

“Me neither.” confessed with one more sip, before passing the bottle.

When Keith holded the bottle for the second time, a thought fell dangerously close him like a ticking bomb. He realised that they were both drinking from the same place and his eyes landed on Lance that appeared to be very intrigued by an equipment box or leading a ferocious debate inside his mind, so intense that he forgot where he was looking at. 

On the pale moonlight, he noticed the other boy’s cheeks getting red like burning coal and, suddenly, the faint idea that his mouth once was exactly where his lips were now touching, just a few seconds shy from meeting each other, was enough to make the drink more tolerable.

Whatever that whiskey was doing with his inhibitions, it was doing fast.

Keith groaned a little as the drink descended into his body, but he was starting to getting used to it. When he separated his mouth from the bottle a loud “pop” noise was heard and for some reason, that snapped the other boy out of his trance. Lance stared at him completely dumbfounded, as if Keith’s skin had suddenly turned purple or something equally as scandalous was happening with before his eyes. 

“I bet you are glad that you won't have to attend the morning call tomorrow.” he said, giving the bottle away.

All of a sudden, any trace of emotion on Lance’s face was drained and Keith felt like he had just stepped on a landmine.

“Oh yeah, just peachy. Words can’t even describe my joy of not passing to the advanced training, just like you did.” he answered with a sarcastic tone while the other frowned.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to-”

Lance took another gulp.

“No really, it was for the best.” he place his hand on the corner of his mouth, as if whispering a secret.”Did you know that once you are done, they make you sing a paper where you agree to not have a relationship? That’s insane, I would never give up on…”

Keith raised his head to face the other boy and in that exact moment, their eyes met and he quickly lost his voice at the end of that sentence, turning his face away and closing his eyelids for a long while. His words were hanging in the air above them and the silence was starting to get too long, too awkward. 

“I would never give up on the idea of love!” he completed in a dramatic fashion. “I have hot blood running in my veins, for crying out loud!”

Lance let out an empty laugh.

“But if only I was as perfect and precious as Keith maybe then, I would have a chance.”

“Wait.” he reprehended to defend himself. 

“At least, that’s what everyone always says. They don't get tired of it, actually,” he said wrinkling his nose a bit, “‘ _ Hey Lance, you don’t even came close-” _

“Shut up!” Keith snapped, the eyes looking at him were wide open. “Do you know what’s your problem Lance?”

“Oh please, do tell me.”

Keith snatched the bottle from his hands and basically threw the whiskey down his throat like is was a cup of fresh water, all the alcohol appeared to be going up all the way into his brain leaving only a strong dizziness, as if he had just banged his head against a rock. He pointed a finger at Lance, almost touching his nose and stayed like this for a good five seconds, struggling on the first syllables, before actually saying something.

“You always wanted to make me into the bad guy of your story, always wanting me to antagonize you, to compete in whatever the fuck - but I never wanted any of that! What I wanted...Everything I wanted was,” the words were getting tangled in his tongue, so he jumped to the next sentence that made sense.“...You can’t blame me for your mistakes, Lance. Please, don’t...”

He hesitated for a second.

“I never wanted you to hate me.”

For the first time since they met, Keith felt like he had left Lance speechless and he didn’t know why, but there was a hint of satisfaction from watching the way his lips quivered as they formed a small “o” shape, his eyebrows arching over astonished blue eyes.

“I...I don't blame you.God, I…there is no way I’d ever...” with an anxious motion, his hand went from his forehead to his neck, ruffling his hair in the process.

Lance sighed deeply, signing with his hand for Keith to pass him the bottle, which was almost half-empty by now. Maybe he needed a sip of courage before he could translate his thoughts into words but whatever he wanted to say, Keith decided, he would listen. However, the young man just looked through the glass as the whiskey waved inside like an ocean before a storm.

“I always wanted to be a fighter ace. Ever since I was a kid I wanted to, you know, being a pilot, flying around, fighting bad guys that kind of thing.” he forced a smile, “But I come from a huge family and I'm the oldest, so you know how it goes, all the responsibilities fall on me.” 

He sipped the drink while Keith shifted on the ground, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit so they wouldn't have to be so crammed against each other,but every time he left an open space Lance would quickly take it for himself. Their legs were basically on top of one another.

“It’s not like my folks were completely against, but they do have their preferences. Meaning, they wanted me to stay at home to inherit the family business instead of ‘flying around like a madman’. It would be perfect.” he scoffed, “And boring as hell.”

Keith nodded in agreement and they both laughed for a little while.

“Then, they told me I had one shot. Just one shot. So I took the chance, but really, all they wanted was for me to go back as soon as possible, it was in every single letter.”

Suddenly, everything was gone, no laughs, no words, no nothing. He was truly haunted by something Keith couldn’t explain or see, but he knew it was there, it has always been there.

“Nobody believed in me, not my family, not our commanders and sometimes I think Hunk and Pidge see me as a joke that stopped being funny a long time ago.” he started to peel to bottle's label, crumpling the thin paper with his fingers, “So, what can you do? You believe in yourself three times as hard, because hell, somebody’s gotta do it.”

Lance twisted and turned the paper around, ripping it into tiny little pieces that could be mistaken as dust.

“And then, there was you...Everybody praises you, they say that you are incredible. Because you are…” he hiccupped, “You really are incredible. I kept thinking ‘if there is someone worth a damn around here, it’s gotta be Keith...I want to reach his level, be neck a neck until this training is over.’”

Keith felt his face flushing red. He tried to dry his slightly sweaty hands on his pants while quietly asking himself if, somehow, the one sitting right across from him was able to hear his loud erratic heartbeat that seemed to make every inch of his body throb, he wouldn't be surprised if it exploded right out of his chest.

“But then, well, I failed. Hard. Crashed and burned.” one hand covered his eyes as the corners of his mouth started to twitch.       


“It´s not all bad...going home after such a long time, but I didn't want to lower my head and say ‘Yeah, yeah, you're right. I should´ve never had faith in this dumb dream’...I gave my best and and that wasn’t good enough…”

“Why am I never good enough?” 

Lanced breathed heavily, as if the air around him was frozen solid and he had to break it apart to inhale it’s sharp shards and, despite his roommate best efforts, Keith noticed a small teardrop running down the outline of his face before Lance hurried to catch it with his jacket sleeve. He rubbed his eyes, hiding them once again.

“Maybe, it really was for the best.” his voice was breaking apart.

Even if those compliments had caught him off guard, he didn’t feel like he deserved any of them. Truthfully, what Keith had was the right combination of talent and stubbornness, he didn’t work as hard as Lance - and, for some reason, most people tended to ignore the many mistakes he committed.

In the same way they never seemed to notice when Lance studied maps and astronomy off hours by candlelights or when he would break the curfew to practice on the training grounds before the morning alarm. Not that he would admit that to anyone either.

But he knew.

“I always believed in you.”

Lance uncovered his eyes burying his face in his jacket in a vain attempt to diminish the damage before facing the one in front of him. His eyes were a little bit swollen and red, two last tears escaped from it’s edges as he gave the most sincere smile Keith had ever seen, for a brief moment it looked like it could radiated light.

“See? I...I can’t hate you even if I try….” his voice was almost a whisper.

Keith was startled by the light touch of Lance’s hand above his, obviously an accident. He waited for the moment where he would jolt away from him, as if he had received an electric shock, saying that he didn’t want to actually touch him. But instead, Lance just took another sip of whiskey and nothing more, no movement at all, and for that Keith stayed too.

“Do you remember when they took us to a hangar and there was that red aeroplane from the war?” he hiccuped, “They were going to show us the control panel or something…?”

The boy nodded, clearly recalling how everybody seemed like a bunch of excited elementary school kids lost at an amusement park, all the disappointed grunts when he was the first to get in the cockpit. He saw all those speedometers and controls like they were exotic foreign language, it made little sense to him but it was all so fascinating.

“That thing...it was like it was made for you, a part of you.” he laughed softly but still a little bit bitterly, “I was so irritated.”

Keith thought about how wonderful it would be to fly without a destiny, at the blissful moment when he would share the horizon with the stars listed on his books and tried not to focus on the way Lance’s fingers were starting to intertwine with his, but it was getting harder and harder, the two feelings seemed so similar - his dizziness was merging them into one. A delightful vertigo sensation like walking on clouds.

“Everything was at your fingertips and you didn’t even care. I don’t even know if you were...If you are happy about all this. I really have no idea.”

Lance tilted his head a little bit while looking at the other boy like he was the last puzzle piece and yet didn't fit the picture. His blue eyes were dark as the night sky above them and Keith could swear there were entire constellations in them - he wanted to stay in that moment for a little longer, memorizing those alien starts maybe they would guide him to somewhere incredible.   


“Are you?” he wanted to know.

Back to reality, Keith sighed, taking the bottle to himself. After his roommate was so outspoken with him, there was no reason to avoid reciprocity.

“It’s not like I'm not happy, it’s just…” and took a sip, “...Look, it’s complicated.”

“I’ve got all night.” he answered with a half smile.

The constellations inside Lace’s eyes gleamed and once again he felt that vertigo, free falling with his feet still on the ground.

“My father was a fighter ace during the war, one of the first and one of the best. He wanted me to be a pilot too, that’s all he talked about and said he would train me as soon as I was old enough.” he coughed, choking on something bitter, “I was always spending time around hangars with him, most people here know me because of my father.” 

Silence.

“He died in combat.”

Keith sometimes surprised himself with how naturally he could carry that story. The words never felt his own, each time he spoke them, it sounded more cold and even more hollow, it made him recall how those strangers’ voices would explain his situation to one another on the day they all mourned an empty grave. They talked as if he wasn’t there, as if he couldn’t hear them. 

He grew to believe that, if he was also that distant then maybe those facts could become just another story - those ones that always happen to someone you know, but never with you. 

But something about Lance’s broken hearted expression almost made him want to cry.

“What about you mother?” his voice was low.

To answer that one he needed one more dose of alcohol.

“I never had any problems with her, we’re friends. She smiled a lot, maybe too much...And she tried her best, she really did.” he said lowering his head, resting it over his own shoulder,“ But I kinda knew that she was sad, though she worked hard to hide it...and took care of me despite all that so I´m not resentful or anything.”

Behind his speech of calculated words, he tries to hide all the memories he had with his mother over the last year she was alive. She had long raven black hair, not very tall - he would probably be taller than her by now - her cooking was amazing and she always let him draw on the backward's walls.

But weeks turned into months, and even as a kid he could notice the way his mother seemed to shrink as if an invisible force was crushing her down more and more. The sadness spread into her like a mortal disease that weakened her with each passing day,she was hurt and exhausted and one morning she just was gone in her sleep and for the first time in a long time. She looked so peaceful.

“But in the end, I think she just couldn’t live without him.”

It happened one year later the letter that announced his father death arrived and since then Keith asked himself if there was something he could have done.If the kid was an adult able to understand how pain can take over someone’s soul to, he would have catched her sadness before it obliterated her heavy heart. 

He constantly had nightmares about the things he didn’t do, retracing the days hour by hour, each vague possibility eating him alive and it always ended the same way, his mother in her bed eyes wide open as she asked why, oh why her son couldn’t save her. 

The worst part of it all was that he didn’t remember her voice anymore.

“I´m sorry Keith” his words were old and full of dust as if he had been keeping them in a closed space for a long time before he could actually deliver them, “I mean it.”

“It’s ok. It was a long time ago.” he said, trying to distance himself of the memories going around and around like a hurricane inside his mind. He felt so helpless. 

“No, it’s not!” yelled him and Keith felt something stinging his heart. “Stop saying that ‘it’s ok’ when all you’re doing is running away from yourself! That drives me crazy!”

“What…”perplexed, that’s the only thing he managed to say.

“You know you are not actually made of iron, right soldier?”

He probably already knew he was an orphan. After all, whenever the mail arrived with families’ letters and packages Keith was the only one on the training grounds and that didn’t get over Lance’s head, for that reason he started to call him “iron soldier” -  _ how come you never take a break? _ \- at the beginning that nickname pissed him off, but after some time, he would hear it and there would be him with a box full of some ancient family recipe.Lance would blabber about his younger brothers, sisters and the ocean that was right across his street.

After a while, he had to pretend that hearing that nickname didn’t make his heart skip a beat, that his lips never curled into a smile.

“Look, you talk in your sleep and I´m a light sleeper.” he took the whiskey and took a sip, before pointing at his own eye, “Besides, your eye twitches when you lie.”

Keith blushed as he reached for his eyelid, trying to confirm if what the other was telling the truth. Lance was the only person that could make a military camp came close to what a home away from home would be. As a matter of fact, he was closest thing to a friend he ever had, he made him feel like everything was fine- actually fine, as though life could be sweeter than those chocolates that were mailed to him. That alone was quite extraordinary.

He sighed heavily.

“Most of the time I feel so empty, so lost.”confessed.

Lance’s thumb started to move, slowly caressing his index finger and Keith caught himself wishing he didn’t had to lose any of that. The boy in front of him whose dark eyelashes guarded those blue half opened eyes, his warm touch. But, he should be glad those little instants were even happening at all, it should be enough as it is, right? 

“My father took me to fly with him once, he was crazy! I could have died!” he almost laugh, “But I still remember how I felt so...amazingly happy...and I thought that if I were a pilot, if I could fly one more time, I would find something...I don't know...some kind of secret he left for me.”

He paused while trying to articulate all the emotions he kept locked up inside for so long, the sentences were collapsing on his tongue before he could make sense of what he was saying.

“...Something that would make me understand why I am still here, that could make me feel whole again.”

Suddenly, Lance dropped the bottle by his side and leaned over in Keith’s direction and for some reason he felt like he also needed to come closer, as if he was being drawn by a magnetic field. His roommate cupped his face with his hands, warm fingers against cold cheeks. 

Keith heard the inches between them pulverizing one by one as their foreheads touched each other, he closed his eyes, panicking, waiting but then, nothing happened. They were as still as a rock.

“Look at me, Keith.” he did, but it was so hard to keep focus when he could count the stars behind his eyelashes.

“Look at me.” repeated him, realizing the other was distracted.

“I am!” he answered impatiently.

“You...You are much more than patchwork stitched together by memories other people left behind.” the tip of their noses brushed lightly against each other as he lowered his head. ”You are complete...completely incredible. See? I repeated myself, so now you know it’s true.”

All of a sudden, he was hitted by a hot wave of sensations that came from within and everything else started to vanish around him. All that it mattered has Lance’s lips;  how close they were, how soft they looked. Every fiber of his being seemed to plead for contact, for closeness but the small distance that kept them apart felt more like long torturous miles.

“But don’t make me say it again, three times is too much.”

Lance smirked as he threw himself back against the boxes, back where he was before, and Keith finally remembered how to breath, his presence still lingering on his skin as if the other boy’s touch was a burning fire. As he tried to gather his thoughts, a question was heard:

“Have you ever felt happy?” he answered with a confused look, “But I mean, real happiness, like fireworks and shit going off inside of you.”

He stared at his hand, counting with his fingers like a small child, three fingers were raised when the other boy exclaimed:

“I didn’t mean for you to count them literally!”

Lance waited but the number stayed the same: three. He seemed to gulp before averting his eyes from Keith.

“People go through a lot of shit everyday, we all deserve to be happy, you know?” we made a brief pause, “But happiness isn’t a destiny, it isn’t a place you can go to. It´s a moment, now and here.”

Keith squinted and he raised an eyebrow as a smile passed through his lips. Who knew that even after all that alcohol his roommate still was able to find metaphors? Lance raised his hand and pointed to the ground between them.

“The way I see it, you have to take those moments with you as soon as you spot them. Hold them and never let them go,” he shrugged, “After all, nobody is going to do that for you.”

He tried to hide a shy laugh taking down another shot of whiskey, the bottle almost in the end.

“That’s why I asked you to come with me...I-I mean, It’s not like I was planning on it but the moment was there…” it was like he was stumbling into his own words, “And I took it.”

“What do you mean?”

Lance raised his arms in disbelief.

“Really? Iron soldier can’t read between the lines?!” he huffed, sounding a little bit hurt,”I wanted to make a happy memory with you before leaving this place.”

Keith’s dark eyes widened while he desperately tried to form answer but his tongue appeared to be twisting itself into a knot as he recalled all the countless moments they could’ve had - he too saw them right in front of him, but reaching for it was a crazy thought that we never realised it was possible, so he always let them go. It was too late to recover them now, too late to mourn their loss and even every single word he could say sounded obsolete. 

He just hoped it wasn’t too late for a kiss.

It was his turn to lean over, his arms reaching for him, his hand pulling him closer by the suspenders so they could meet halfway. The movement was quick and badly calculated, their heads were in a weird angle making their noses clash against each other, however Lance’s lips were soft and intoxicant, lightly bathed with whiskey.

Keith’s fingers were basically sealed shut between his suspenders and shirt, the other boy’s heart beating like a drum beneath his knuckles. The alcohol felt like boiling in his veins, all the vestiges of it disappearing and at the back of that turmoil of emotions, he heard the glass bottle tinkle against the wooden floor dragging him back to reality. Suddenly, the boy was panicking.

He could have misunderstood his words, mixing Lance’s wishes with his own desires inside his vertiginous mind. Bad interpretations were the difference between an embrace and a black eye, it had happened before - he had scars to prove it. The following seconds after the kiss felt like whole days, the sun was rising and setting in Lance’s eyes and he was almost apologizing when he head: 

“Finally.”

The word wrapped itself around him like Lance’s hands on his hips, they're pulling him closer, trying to extinguish the little space that was left between them and before he knew it, he was sitting on his lap. Keith tilted his head and grabbed him once again by the suspender, leading him into another kiss and this time, they fitted together quite nicely. He never realised how much he yearned for this until the moment Lance’s tongue began to trace his lower lip. Then, he released the suspenders that snapped against his shoulders, making Lance let out a soft moan as Keith started to push the boy’s jacket off his shoulders.   


Lance had the trembling hands of someone who is usually too much talk and not enough action but Keith could feel his hesitant tenderness as his palms worked their way up his back, beneath his shirt. He was still a little bit shy about it, but he was no stranger to kindness and knew how to make someone feel loved and because of that, Keith felt as if he was melting in his embrace.

Keith’s kisses were full of desperation, as if he was suffocating and the last source of oxygen lay between Lance’s lips.There was a sense of urgency growing inside him that made him painfully aware of how their seconds were quickly ticking away, if only they could hide under this night’s veil long enough to make up for all the time that was lost.The kisses were multiplying, covering his face, tracing the jaw, going down his neck.

He had grabbed his fourth moment of happiness with teeth and nails. The best goddamned memory they could ever give to each other.

Finally.Finally.Finally.

“Aah- Keith…” his voice was like fire against his skin, “Keith, it hurts.”

Over the eagerness clouding his mind, Keith opened his eyes while taking conscious of what he was doing. His fingers were pulling down the neck of his shirt, exposing the upper part of his chest and how he had scattered marks all around his collarbone, most of which had passed by the color red, acquiring a bluish-purple tone like tiny forget-me-nots.

Keith sighed slowly before planting a gentle kiss on top of the last mark he had done.

“I’m sorry.”

Lance buried his face into his raven black hair and let out a low, seductive laugh right next to Keith’s ear.

“Didn’t say you had to stop.”

He smiled against the base of Lance’s neck, wanting to tattoo a giant bouquet on his body. Keith felt his fingers threading into his hair, gently tugging it. 

“It’s a shame you’ll have to shave you hair again.” he said.

Every new stage of training, the cadets had to shave their hair almost completely. All squad noticed how abnormally fast Keith’s hair grew, in just a few weeks he already had bangs falling over his eyes. So, to avoid complications he often asked someone to help him trim his hair at the end of every month while Lance’s hair just now was starting to gain some length.

“I remember you telling me my hair looked awful.”

“I lied.” he confessed with a velvet voice that other could only laugh at.

For a couple of instants, they stayed in silence.Keith felt ecstatic as if he was struck by a lighting and it’s electricity was running through his body.Sundely, the possibilities were infinite, the stars seemed so close that he could raise his arms and take them all. That moment, he realised, was his star and it was made of everlasting fire, burning his lips, pulsing at his fingertips with a passionate rhythm like a song that echoed between Lance’s heartbeat. He cupped every single second with his hands and dared to believe it belonged to him.

He caught himself wishing from the bottom of his heart, that Lance felt just the same.

“Keith, I…”

Lance didn’t finish his sentence, a noise coming from the bushes behind the shack cut his voice. It was the sound of movement made by someone that didn’t want to be found and almost instantly they pushed each other apart, the boxes would only cover them if a person attempted to see from the front, arriving from the center of the camp, but there was nothing to hide them if someone were to approach the shack from the other way around.

Agitated and with cheeks flushing red, they tried to fix the mess they did on each other. One buttoning up his vest and the bottom part of his shirt while the other zipped his jacket all the way, attempting to hide the hickeys over his body. Keith slowly got up and his eyes wandered from side to side, searching for shadows in the dark. 

“There is no one.” he confirmed as the other breathed a sigh of relief. “Must have been the wind or some animal on the trees.”

“I bet it was a goddamned owl,” he cursed, “Why can’t they just sleep like everybody else?”

He watched as the other got up, dusting off his pants after sitting on the floor for so long and when he got closer, the tinkling sound of the bottle reached their ears once more -maybe Lance had kicked it by accident. They observed as the empty object rolled around and then, they gave each other a hopeless look, because that sounded like an alarm clock in the morning calling them back from their dreams.

And reality seemed so much more cold and lonelier than ever before.

“Let’s go?” he asked melancholically, hands in pockets. 

Everything they just lived wasn’t meant to last. It was only a moment, nothing less, nothing more, it was going to escape through their fingers like sand to never return. Lance proposed only a handful of happiness and that's what Keith had agreed on, after all, it would be better to save keep that memory like the precious treasure it was and, maybe, he would admire it on his darkest days, as a reminder of how it was to feel so alive.

But that’s the problem with happiness: before you know it, you’re already completely addicted.

“When are you going to leave?” he asked before he could second guess himself.

“Late afternoon,” he raised one eyebrow while answering, “Why?”

“I don’t know how, but ´ll figure out a way! I´m going to pack my things, meet me before lunch time and then we'll leave together.”

Keith’s mind rushed trying to anticipate everything Lance could answer, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled. 

“Do we really have to wait? If we start running now, we can still catch the first train.”

And that, was the fifth moment.

\--

Even before the second alarm rang, everybody knew something was up. The superiors were whispering around during breakfast, something about a bottle of whiskey and two missing cadets and that morning, Pidge and Hunk skipped the first training routine and were especially called to give testimony - what was hilarious in itself, even if they knew why or where their roommates left, it was insulting to think they were expected to snitch everything.

What kind of army advised you to betray your fellows?

Not that Pidge ever said that to their commander face, but as they were denying their involvement in that mess and the knowledge of Lance and Keith’s whereabouts, they fought an intense desire of offending those authorities. Pidge opened the dorm’s door expecting to get rid of the bad taste that situation left in their mouth, only to find Hunk on the verge of tears- waiting for them.

“Did they find them?” he asked, anxiously.

“No and I don’t think they will.” they answered while stretching their tense muscles, “Actually, I think that was the whole point.”

“What do you mean: ‘That was the point’?”

Sometimes, Hunk sounded like an unexperienced father on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

“They went out before sunrise, they are long gone now, wherever they are.”

“Do you know where they went?” his tone was completely baffled.

Truthfully, Pidge was awake when they stormed into the room, granted they were just a couple of blurred shapes, carrying around other shapeless forms from one place to another, they didn’t bother to put their glasses before asking the blue blob where they were going.

They started the despair printed all over Hunk’s face while pondering their options. Pidge had their fair share of secrets and everyone in that dorm had their trust, no exceptions. It was kind of unfair for him not to know.

“To the stars.”

They repeated word for word of what Lance had told them, but when he answered, somehow, it felt like it was really a place they could easily go to as if they could open a map right now and show Hunk where it was. However, it was when Pidge heard their own voice saying that they came to realise just how awfully cheesy that line sounded.

Hunk laughed out loud as his anxieties over the subject appeared to be gone in a blink of an eye, as if he knew that something like that was going to happen sooner or later. He got up and tapped Pidge on the shoulder before heading out.

“I hope they send us a postcard.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Uff, this oneshot is a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, but it was super fun to work on. I hope you had fun reading it :D now don't be shy and tell me what you think about it ~ <3


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